Language Gap
by order.golden.beak
Summary: Kataang. Oneshot. He took Spanish, she took French. Simple as that.


**Language Gap **

He was taking Spanish, she was taking French. Simple as that.

The two of them of course knew how to speak English, but for some reason when it came to foreign languages, she found herself more drawn to the romance of the French language and culture, while he was much more excited to immerse himself in the exciting and adventurous Spanish world.

By their Junior Year – they were both seventeen – they found that they were particularly advanced in their language. It began as a joke. Whenever there was some interesting news, they would say how they felt about a situation, opinion, or almost anything else. In different languages.

Sometimes they would sit under a large oak tree, watching a recreational soccer game or some other sport. He would hold her hand and she would rest her head against his shoulder.

"Espero que el equipo rojo gana el juego," he would whisper into her ear. She would stick her tongue out at him ever so cutely, not knowing that he was merely telling her that he wanted the red team to win the game.

She would smirk and reply, "Je pense que l'équipe rouge fait gagner la partie." He would grin and pull her closer, completely unaware that she had said that she too, wanted the red team to win.

The summer before senior year was when this language barrier was used for more important things.

They would lie under the stars during the warm nights, looking towards the heavens – looking towards the future. Her face glistened in the moonlight, and illuminated the wrinkle on her forehead. He drew her tight, her head gently resting on his chest. She sighed.

"What's wrong?" he asked, almost feeling her distress.

She looked up at him and offered a small smile. "Everything's going to be different after next year... isn't it?"

"Katara, just because we go away to college, doesn't mean we can't still be together," he smiled reassuringly and the top of her head.

She sighed again. "I know, but," Katara paused and looked back to the stars, "It won't be easy, being so far away from each other".

He breathed into her hair, nodding. "You mean too much to me to be so far away. I promise," he said, sitting up, "that whatever happens, I'll never be more than an hour away from you."

She laughed, nearly shocked, and quirked an eyebrow. "Really Aang?"

"Of course!" He grinned. "You…" he trailed off, looking into her eyes, "Usted es el universo para mí. Las estrellas, el sol, la luna. Todo."

She flicked him softly in the head. "Can I have a translation for that?"

He chuckled, gathering her into his lap. "I said that you are the universe to me. The stars, the sun, the moon. Everything," he stated unabashedly.

Her eyes widened. She cupped his cheek and kissed him soundly.

And this continued. One of them would say something, the other would require a translation, and they would kiss.

---------

So when there was a drive-by shooting and Aang was shot in the back, the spring of senior year, Katara ran over to him, instantly by his side.

He was able to mumble: "Duele, duele", before reaching up to her face and wiping away some tears. His head turned to the side as he lost consciousness, the blaring siren of an ambulance in the background.

Hours later, Katara and others sat in the hospital lobby.

A nurse walked over to the girl and placed a hand on her shoulder. "He's in stable condition. We don't know when he'll wake up, but… he will."

Eyes still puffy and red, Katara nodded and she mouth twitched upward. "Thank you," she whispered. The nurse smiled softly and took a step away, preparing to walk out of the room. "Wait!" Katara croaked.

The nurse quickly turned around. "Yes, dear?"

"Do… do you know what 'duele' means in Spanish?" Katara managed to ask.

The nurse inhaled and looked away awkwardly. "It means 'it hurts'". And she slowly backed out of the doorway.

The girl taking French however, sat down weakly and tried to contain a sob. But she couldn't.

---------

One week later, she gripped the injured boy's hand and sighed. The nurse came into the room, smiling. "We checked his vitals, miss. He should wake up any day now."

Katara grinned. "Excuse me, how do you say 'I love you' in Spanish?"

The nurse blinked, laughed, and told her kindly, "Te amo".

Aang opened his eyes the next day and found himself surrounded by many of his friends, Katara holding his right hand tight. After celebrating his consciousness, the room emptied out, leaving the couple alone. The girl leaned over, her breath like a ghost on his lips, and she whispered "Te amo".

When he kissed her with as much passion as his frail body could manage, Katara could only assume he felt the same about her.

---------

It was too long after the accident that the young lovers found themselves swept up in a sea of people. It was early June. High School Graduation Day.

They greeted each other near the bottom of the stage. Aang winced as he moved through the crowd. His back hadn't completely recovered, but even so, he had managed to graduate.

"Je suis tellement fière de toi!" she shouted, smiling.

He kissed her, grinned, and simply asked: "Which means?" and kissed her again.

Katara laughed into his chest and their eyes met.

"I'm so proud of you Aang."

---------

There was only one time when they spoke in different languages and they _didn't_ need a translation.

It was a warm summer night – the summer after college graduation. They sat on the grass at the top of the hill, looking at the stars, much like they had many years ago. The man exhaled and proceeded to inhale deeply. He sat up, pulling her with him. They were connected still, her back resting against his arm.

Aang turned to her, smiled softly, gazing into her eyes. "Katara," he whispered, "¿Quieres casarte conmigo?" And although Katara still hadn't picked up much of the Spanish he used so often, she figured she understood what he asked when he withdrew a shimmering ring from his pocket and held it in his palm.

She grinned, yanked his head towards hers, and kissed him. Not knowing many words in Spanish, she used the one that was so common.

"Sí."

She kissed him again.

"Oui," she continued in French.

He kissed her.

"Yes." He slipped the ring onto her finger as they kissed once more.

And any silly language gap that the two had created seemed to simply disappear into the heavens.

0.o

**Phew… well, I wrote that way too fast, its probably sucks. But it's been in my head foreeeever, so I just had to get it down. Please please please review. It may help determine whether I continue my other stories.. Thanks a ton! Have an awesome day! Over and out.**


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